In Search For The Muse
by BlueRegina06
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki, the successful clothes designer, hits a dead-end with his inspiration. Thankfully though, Shiro, the white haired model working for him, knows just the right way to save the situation. - AU, yaoi, swearing, maybe a little OOC.


**While I was searching for _my_ muse, I stumbled on this. I wrote this like 100 years ago, so it may be slightly different but I think it's... Okay. It's based on a fiction I started (never finished) a few years ago, like a side story, but I made it ShiroIchi.**

**It starts in medias res, I should warn you.**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Bleach or any of the characters. **

**XXXX**

Ichigo Kurosaki was still at _Pantera Inc._ even though it was 11 o' clock in the night. He kept fussing and fixing every small detail in his new clothes designs, trying to make them perfect for his second collection. Since he had already set the bar too high, considering that his first collection had been a motherfucking success, the new designs had to be absolutely one-of-a-kind.

Inspiration though was a bitch and Ichigo's muse had taken her time off for vacation. The more he struggled to draw, the more difficult it was to come up with something original. _You can't force art,_ his art professor used to say, however Ichigo's boss, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, had entrusted the success of this company to his talented hands and thus, Ichigo felt obligated to the man. His little, secret crush on Grimmjow also added oil on the fire; the need to please the man in any way possible came almost naturally.

The top reason of all though was the fact that he didn't want to lose his awesome job and go job-hunting all over again.

Despair started taking over him and he sighed in defeat, grabbing and tugging at his orange hair – a habit he turned to when he was worried. He placed his lucky pencil on the unfinished design, leaned on the back of his chair, stretched and sighed again. _What was he going to do?_ Against his professor's advice, he had to force his inspiration to come back otherwise he would have to repeat things over and over, which was, in the end, boring and unproductive.

His phone vibrating on the table disrupted his self-pitying and self-hating thoughts. "Who is so late at night?", he mumbled and lazily reached out for the buzzing device. He didn't bother to see who was calling; he just flipped the phone open and adjusted it on his ear.

"Hello?"

"Am I disturbing you?", a familiar, husky voice spoke from the end of the other line. A smile crawled on Ichigo's lips at the sound, along with a subtle shiver.

"You? Never." _Flirting mode: Switched on. _"How come you're calling me so late?", he asked the man, leaning comfortably at the back of his chair.

Ichigo could hear the man smirking from the other end, "Nothin' much, I'm just outside yer house and I was wonderin' when yer comin' home…"

His eyes widened in shock. "What? What the hell are you doing outside my house, Shiro?"

Shiro, the white haired model, chuckled. "As I said, waitin' fer ya ta come back. You seem so stressed lately I can't just leave ya like that. Gotta do somethin', ne?". The noticeable husking of his voice indicated that the man was up to something; something that involved sex.

Ichigo sighed in bliss, though he tried to sound exasperated. _Truth was that he was ready to piss his pants at the prospect of getting his worries smothered. Shiro seemed to have some kind of radar whenever Ichigo had his blues._

"Okay. Tell my landlord to open my apartment for you and I'll be there in a bit."

Shiro's grin widened dangerously much; too bad Ichigo couldn't see him. "Sure thing, King… Don't be late…" Then the line went dead.

Ichigo put the phone in his ass pocket with a smile. _King again?_ Shiro insisted on calling him "King" during work, simply because Ichigo was bossing all of his models around and since Shiro was part of the modelling team, he didn't have any special treatment.

However, what Ichigo didn't do with his other models was meeting them outside work in an intimate manner. It was not that he and Shiro were dating or anything - not thatIchigo wouldn't want them to; however, they simply hooked up every once in a while. A night with a horny Shiro was always a delight; it always promised mind-blowing sex until the wee hours of the morning.

This time the man sounded a little different, though; normally Shiro would call Ichigo, grumbling about how horny he was, so that Ichigo would invite him over to his house and fuck like bunnies. _Now the sly albino suggested he did something about Ichigo's stress? _

That sounded rather suspicious to Ichigo but ask him if it didn't turn him the fuck on. He had to find out what the man had in store for him!

He picked up his stuff and unfinished drawings, shoved them inside his bag and took off. He quickly said goodnight the company's always horny, lesbian receptionist, Lisa, and ran to catch one of the rare late buses. Twenty minutes exactly it took him to arrive at his house. Ichigo opened the main door, thanked and said goodnight to his landlord and hurdled up the stairs, more than just eager to throw himself in Shiro's arms.

When he arrived in front of his door, he paused. _On the other hand, he didn't want to seem too eager._ Slowly, as if careful, he opened the door and came into contact with a sight that left him speechless; his living room was dimly illuminated, mainly by dozens of small odourless candles, but there was a very familiar, musky scent topping all of them.

_Shiro._

_Speak of the devil. _The white haired man was leaning on one of the arm chairs in Ichigo's living room with a very, _very_ seductive smirk on his pale face. Shiro looked even paler, almost transparent, under the dim light. _Dear, dear; Shiro was absolutely beautiful._

"Shiro…?", Ichigo said, looking around the room in a daze, "What's all this?"

Shiro stood up from where he was leaning on and walked up to his boss slowly, the light revealing that he was simply dressed in a … black bathrobe? Ichigo raised one questioning orange eyebrow to the outfit but said nothing. _It had to be part of the concept. _Besides, Shiro looked delectable in almost everything, especial black clothing.

The orange haired man made a mental note to suggest Shirosaki for a bathrobe photoshooting.

The white haired man reached out and took one of Ichigo's hands in his, kissing the top side, leaving his lips to linger as he spoke. "So…", he murmured seductively, "Are you ready for your stress releasing therapy, Kurosaki Ichigo, sir?"

_Oh yes. Oh yes, yes! _Shiro was being so nice and polite but his inverted, gold on black eyes were gleaming in what could be described as utter mischief. Pure intensity radiated from the model's pores, with a hint of arrogance which made Ichigo think he was in for a real treat.

"Sure," Ichigo muttered with a feigned shy smile and allowed the other to guide him towards … _the bedroom?_

_Straight to the sex? Nah, Shirosaki wasn't as a boring man as that._

Shiro opened the wooden door and closed it behind them. Silently and carefully, his strange eyes never leaving Ichigo's and the smirk on his thin, pale lips never faltering, he reached for Ichigo's bag and rolled it off the oranget's shoulder, leaving it to fall gently onto the floor. He then reached for Ichigo's jacket and tugged it off, his grin widening when Ichigo raised one eyebrow.

"Not that I don't like the treatment but I think I can take off my clothes without help," he said sarcastically.

The white haired man leaned forwards until his lips were mere inches from the oranget's ear. "I know, my King", Shiro whispered, "But tonight jus' leave yerself to my hands. I promise I'll take good care o' ya."

At the last sentence, a shiver zig-zagged its way down Ichigo's spine. _That was all he could ask for; someone to take care of him._

Just as promised, and under Ichigo's strictly observing look, Shiro slowly discarded all of his clothing until the orange haired man was left in his birthday suit. Shiro lazily examined the well-shaped body displayed in front of him and licked his lips, the sensual action nearly undid Ichigo.

The model took Ichigo's hand in his once more. "I've prepared a bath for ya, King. Shall we proceed?" The sound of his nickname so intimately pronounced had Ichigo's knees quiver like jello.

"Yes…", he croaked hoarsely and let Shiro once again take the lead, guiding him inside the bathroom.

Ichigo's mind switched from the blundering mess to surprised beyond belief when he entered the new space; his bathtub was filled with hot water, taking into consideration that the room was pleasantly stuffed with thick steam. He sucked a deep breath in and felt his body immediately relax, his mind clouding along with the floating steam. However, when his eyes fixed on the other person in the room, his systems filled also with another emotion very familiar to him.

_Lust_.

Shiro had taken off his bathrobe, only to reveal his beautiful, pale nudity underneath. Ichigo's eyes roamed greedily over every dip and valley on that powerful body that he knew so well, drinking the sight before him through half-lidded eyes. When his eyes fixed on Shiro's face, he saw the signature smirk back on and couldn't help but smirk a little bit back. "You planned all this for me? I am touched.", he muttered.

"A'course I did. An' you'll be surprised how _touched_ ya'll be when we are done."

Shiro purposely left the statement open on for Ichigo's dirty mind to fill in. _Damn, the albino always did this, always teased him_.

The white haired man smiled lecherously at the oranget and held his hand, gently pulling Ichigo closer to the tub.

"Hop in," he softly commanded and Ichigo couldn't do anything but obey. The moment the warm water came into contact with the skin on his calves, he grunted appreciatively. Soon enough, Shiro joined Ichigo into the tub and carefully turned Ichigo away from him so that Ichigo's back was facing him.

It all was set on fire once Shirosaki poured the warm water on the oranget's back.

"Aaah!", Ichigo groaned when the soothing water prickled down his spine. Shiro grinned in triumph, but apparently he wished for some more confirmation.

"Feels good, King?", he asked as he slowly caressed Ichigo's lean back.

"Good doesn't accurately describe what I'm feeling right now…", Ichigo mumbled in his daze, making the other man's grin widen.

A slim hand slid around his waist and pulled Ichigo's body flush against a rock-hard chest. The orange head gasped at the sudden skin contact but immediately melted, tilting his head backwards to rest it on Shiro's shoulder while the warm water ran down his chest and flat belly, accompanied by Shiro's calloused hand.

Ichigo allowed the sneaky albino to explore his body thoroughly with those sexy, rough hands, shivering every now and then when the white haired man brushed over a sensitive spot or his nipples. The man paid much attention to the small and sensitive appendages, either by caressing them softly with his thump pad or by tweaking them lightly with his fingers. Anyhow, all the actions had turned Ichigo into the desirable puddle of mush.

_Ichigo had it so bad already, he wouldn't be able to deny the other man anything_.

"Wouldya, please sit down?"

The request was uttered so close to the oranget's sensitive ear and in such deep octave that Ichigo couldn't help but shiver and do what he was told. However, he needed a little bit of Shiro's aid, having jellies instead of muscles and marshmallows instead of bones. The albino made him sit on the solid, marble edge of the bathtub, he himself bending his knees and sitting down between the oranget's spread thighs.

In his daze, Ichigo managed to mumble; "What are you doing?"

His question earned Ichigo a smug grin. "I'm gonna start washing yer body. Is that okay, my King?"

Ichigo smiled dizzily and nodded. With the green light given, Shiro opened the lily-scented bath-foam gel and squirted a generous amount in his hand.

The albino started with the legs; carefully yet thoroughly, he rubbed the slick substance over Ichigo's calves and then up to the lean thighs, massaging every single muscle. Shiro even asked his partner to spread his thighs wider so that he could reach the more hidden areas of skin. Shiro licked his lips when his gaze travelled across Ichigo's still limp manhood, but it looked like he had hard time controlling himself from immediately diving in with his hands, mouth or tongue. He instead focused on the oranget's hazed but nonetheless examining gaze, doing his job just like a servant should. He ran his hands over Ichigo's thighs once again, massaging with his fingers all the tight muscle there, gaining small groans and grunts of approval.

Taking all the time in the world, Shiro aimed higher, towards the slim, muscular torso; with what was left of the gel, the model ran his hands over Ichigo's flat and defined belly and pectorals, spending his time to grope the hard flesh available, which earned him quiet moans of reassurance for his good job. He curved his hands over Ichigo's sides, reached up for broad shoulders and then reached for some more gel for the slim but chorded arms. He gave Ichigo's arms the same treatment; gently caressing the tanned skin in all its expance.

Ichigo's gaze was positively blazing by now, if Shiro's nervous averting of eyes was any indication.

Not cutting the manifestations on his partner's body, the albino turned him around and busied himself with the other's back. The orange haired man grunted and groaned, arching his back on the blunt fingernails scratching his sensitive skin.

"Oh God," he mumbled under his breath every once in a while, giving the white haired man the confidence he needed. When finished with the royal treatment, the albino rinsed them both from any remnants of soap.

"Stay here," the white haired man ordered as he stepped off the bathtub to retrieve his discarded bathrobe and to take a spare towel for Ichigo. As for the oranget, he had his mind clouded with pleasure and steam that he didn't really notice when Shiro picked his hand up again and guided him back to his bedroom.

When the slightly cold air contacted his wet skin, he snapped out of his musings and shivered noticeably. Immediately Shiro wrapped the towel around the lean body and rubbed through the material in his attempt to warm his orange haired partner up again.

"Sit on the bed an' spread yer legs."

Ichigo obeyed with no objections. Call him a slut of you may, but spreading his legs for that particular man never really bothered him. In fact he always did it with pleasure.

Ichigo crawled on the bed and sat on his ass, spreading his legs and bent his knees invitingly so that Shiro could fit between them. Said man kneeled and approached him with a mischievous grin of his own, wrapping the towel over Ichigo's left thigh. Eye contact never breaking, Shiro dried off one leg and reached for the other. As he was finally done, he strengthened his body and asked with a smug grin;

"Enjoyin' yerself so far?"

"Mmm yeah…", Ichigo hummed and fell flat on his back with a content smile. "You are amazing Shiro… Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet…", Shiro said, his tone cryptic. "I haven't even started."

To the other man's words, Ichigo closed his eyes a smiled. _Widely_. If the bath had felt like cloud nine then what was about to happen would be absolute Nirvana. As if Shiro was reading his mind, his calloused hands started to caress the inside of Ichigo's thighs slowly, sensually but never advancing towards the place where Ichigo wanted them the most.

_Che, what a tease._

Those hands suddenly wrapped around Ichigo's hip bones, gingerly positioning the man in the centre on the double bed, while the naked thighs rested upon Shiro's. Ichigo peaked over his eyelids when he heard clothing rustling, only to see the God-tempting sight of Shiro was stripping from the black bathrobe, golden eyes flaring with lust, full lips slightly parted and an impressive erection standing thick with blood and stiff as a rock between Shirosaki's thighs. _Well, look what we have here._

_It was never too difficult to get Shiro hard after all._

Brown eyes locked with the rock-hard member that was moving ever so slightly with Shiro's heart beat. Ichigo sat up and finally looked up into Shiro's eyes, flashing a small smile before attempting to give the albino's full lips a shy lick. Shiro smirked at his partner's initiative but shook his head and pushed Ichigo back on the bed. "Nu-uh…", he scolded playfully.

"Tonight I will do the work."

**XXXX**

_He liked taking care of his King. Especially when the man was as stressed as he had been lately._

Shiro had had a serious crush on the orange haired boss ever since the man hired him to be in his modeling team. _Like, who wouldn't?_ Ichigo was absolutely gorgeous, smart and elegant, just like a prince.

The albino hadn't been exactly subtle with his advances; flowers, sweets, random but well-aimed touches here and there, stares, glances, smiles, he did all of these and then some more to get the oranget's attention. He was whipped, seriously, but he couldn't find the mind or heart to care. Ichigo was his dream man after all; handsome, talented, smart, not whiny, not asking for too many things, not too clingy... And the best part of it? He was real too.

_I'll ask him to be my boyfriend at some point_, Shiro fleetingly mused, _But right now, let's get back to the situation at hand._

The white haired man towered over Ichigo's open body, planting kisses all over a slender neck and lithe shoulders. He grew a little bolder after a while as he started nipping and sucking his boss's pulse point, drawing delicious sounds from the man below. Willing to explore this already familiar body more, Shiro littered the orange haired man's chest with kisses until his lips met with some over-eager nipples; the buds were already as erected as his dick and Shiro didn't waste any time before he sucked them into his mouth. Knowing exactly how sensitive Ichigo's nipples were, he grinned widely when the man arched his back and moaned. He kept licking and sucking the tawny nub while toying the other with his fingers, until he switched places in the end, welcoming the keening sound Ichigo made, as well as the slim fingers that swiftly interlaced with Shiro's silver white hair.

The scorching lips finally left the two nipples, and moved down to a quivering belly. Shiro spent his time to mess with Ichigo's navel, making the oranget squirm, yelp and laugh, suddenly feeling a little sadistic, but then he decided it was time to pay attention to his favourite part between Ichigo's legs. Placing his hands under both Ichigo's knees, Shiro spread the man's legs even more and licked his lips at the sight of Ichigo's saluting erection.

_Damn, even his manhood was elegant._

Sliding his hands down the oranget's thighs, Shirosaki exhaled over the newly excited sex earning something between a yelp and a moan from the other. Wrapping his fingers around the love rod, he tugged Ichigo's erection once, twice, thrice, until the appendage was into full hardness, then swirled his tongue around the sensitive head, making Ichigo moan loudly and arch his back.

"Ahhn!", Ichigo cried out lavishly.

As if waiting for more confirmation, Shiro sucked ever-so-softly the head into his mouth before slowly getting more of the engorged flesh inside. Of course, that action had the desirable effect; Ichigo was squirming and moaning, thrashing his head to the sides, calling out his name and tugging his white hair as if his life depended on it.

Ichigo's body was always beautifully reactive to Shiro's touches. Enjoying the sight developing before his eyes, the albino swallowed twice around the hard member and started bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks every once in a while when he sucked harder. He even reached up for Ichigo's testicles with his hands, shifting them and massaging them in every way but wrong.

The oversensitive flesh inside his mouth started pulsing vigorously and Shiro knew that the oranget was about to come. _Let's help him, shall we?_ While mentally rubbed his hands together, Shiro picked up the pace, eager to taste Ichigo's addictive essence. _For a man who hated the taste of semen, Shiro didn't mind swallowing King's. He dared to say he liked it._

However the oranget didn't plan on coming just yet. In his sex-induced high, Ichigo managed to pull Shiro's head away from his lap, panting roughly through his mouth as he tried to force his upcoming orgasm back. He stared into displeased gold on black eyes, trying to get his bearings back.

"The hell was that for?", Shiro asked, looking very, very unhappy and pissed off.

Ichigo took a long breath and released the abused white tresses. "I don't want to come yet." He smoothed his hand over Shiro's white complexion, sitting up and brushing his lips against the other pair, before whispering, "I want to come while you fuck me…"

Shiro smirked as Ichigo pulled him into a deep and slow kiss. _Ah... __King was such a good kisser._ Whenever he was kissing him, Shiro always felt the undefeatable urge to close his eyes and enjoy it; he had never felt this urge with any of his previous partners. He didn't like kissing to begin with but that maybe was because he never really liked his previous partners. Or maybe it was just because the oranget was so special; artistic, talented, beautiful, confident, powerful, hot and feisty. One couldn't miss the glances of admiration, awe or lust other people, men and women, were giving him. Shiro had noticed that even the big boss, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, had a thing for the orange head, but the blue haired man never made a move. So far.

_Good for him._

_Shiro was extra possessive after all. Ichigo was his._

_Back to the situation at hand though_. Ichigo was letting his hands roam freely all over Shiro's pale, firm chest, down across rippled abdomen, cupping his aching erection in the very end. The albino hissed at the sensation and pulled away from the kiss. Ichigo however wasn't done yet; he licked his way down Shiro's neck, sucking gently on the pulse point, his hand stroking relentlessly the hot flesh between his legs. Shiro was starting to loose it; having his King teasing his sensitive spots while stroking his dick with those magical fingers of his, had his mind clouding. The beast inside him was growling, demanding for one thing; _more._

"King, let my dick go.", Shiro growled in his King's ear. Ichigo ignored him and instead he picked up the pace. The albino gritted his teeth together, the sensations too many for him and he grabbed the oranget's hand into halt. He smirked at the displeased, manly whine that escaped Ichigo's throat and shushed the man with a kiss.

"It's all 'bout 'cha tanight, King. Lay down and spread yer legs fer me."

Brown eyes dilated dangerously and Ichigo's whole body shuddered in anticipation. _Finally Shiro was going to fuck me_, those expressive eyes wrote all and Shiro had to smirk in male pride.

As Ichigo lay down, the albino fussed over his bathrobe's pockets in order to find what he needed for the next stage; lubrication and a protection. He smiled in triumph once his fingers wrapped around the plastic tube and the plastic, square container.

Positioning himself between Ichigo's spread legs, his control was _so fucking close_ into snapping from the heated look Ichigo was giving him, but he managed to contain a straight face – a straight mind, to be specific. Opening the lube, he slicked his fingers up as much as possible; a pleasant chocolate scent assaulted his nostrils as soon as the gel was neatly spread.

"Ready?"

A subtle nod from Ichigo was all Shirosaki needed to seek out his prize between Ichigo's legs. He circled the small entrance, enjoying the content sigh escaping from Ichigo's lips, before he slid his finger home.

"Oh!", Ichigo gasped; the initial penetration was always weird but sooner or later the orange haired man got used to it. Besides, Shiro always gave him time to adjust.

_At least, when Shiro was topping._

Soon, the lone finger became two and soon enough Shiro was fucking Ichigo with three fingers, stretching him enough to assist later his arousal's length and girth. Deeply absorbed by how tight the passage was, Shiro flinched slightly when Ichigo screamed and arched his back.

"God, just fuck me already, please!", Ichigo shouted breathlessly at him, dignity be damned.

Shirosaki couldn't take the torture anymore; his dick was screaming profanities and now that his King was ordering him to fuck him… _Who the fuck was he to say no?_

"Yer wish is my command, my King."

_Now it was the time for his dick to get some candy._

With a growl, Shiro situated himself swiftly between Ichigo's legs and soon the blunt head of his erection was pushing into Ichigo's body. Once fully sheathed, golden on black eyes closed shut as Shiro tried not to come right on the spot; _Ichigo always felt so awesomely awesome._

"God damn it, Shiro. Move!"

_Yes sir._

Shiro placed his elbows in either side of Ichigo's head and pulled his hips back. When he pushed back in though, the room echoed by two simultaneous moans, the sound erotic enough to make Shiro finally lose it to his primal side. His thrusts reduced to a frantic pace, pistoning in and out of Ichigo's prone body, grunting and groaning while he kissed his King sloppily. Their tongues danced sensually while their hips came together with wet slapping sounds. Ichigo wrapped his mile long legs around Shiro's waist, angling his hips to meet the other's thrusts better.

The change in angle made the pair moan in unison since deeper penetration was provided. As a matter of fact, Shiro sat up, grasped one of Ichigo's left thigh and threw it over his shoulder and proceeded with his thorough, frantic pace.

Having all that great access, Shirosaki threw his head back and moaned as be kept thrusting into that tight body mercilessly. Underneath him, Ichigo was grasping at the sheets for dear life and Shiro knew the orange head was about to come; the muscles around his erection were spasming too.

Shiro wrapped his pale white fingers around Ichigo's red, throbbing erection and started stroking him in sync with his maddening thrusts. Ichigo arched his back and not to long after he came hard, moaning loudly and ass clamping down on Shiro, preventing the man from moving until the grip loosened up.

_It was there. It was fucking there. _Shiro could see his climax looming in the horizon.

With a few more thrusts he was coming too, reaching the absolute nirvana by his lover's side.

_I'm gonna ask him to be my boyfriend, no more hesitating. _

_Tomorrow._

**XXXX**

Ichigo sighed contently; he was satisfied beyond belief, it wasn't even funny. "Thank you Shiro…", he mumbled, nose buried to damp white hair.

Shiro chuckled near his ear and nuzzled his neck. "Everything fer my King," he mumbled as he lifted himself off the inviting body underneath him, grinning when Ichigo sexily pouted from the loss of contact.

"I'll go get rid o' the equipment and I'm back in yer arms babe…", the albino said and pecked the oranget on the lips. As a matter of fact, Shiro got rid of the used condom, washed his hands and ran back to his lover.

Ichigo greeted him with a wide, sleepy smile and he opened his arms for the albino to fit in. Losing no more time, Shiro snuggled against the bare, tanned chest and breathed Ichigo's unique scent along with the scent of sex and himself. Ichigo softly kissed the top of his white head.

"I'm gonna doze off. I'm tired as fuck…", said the oranget, ruining the sweet, cuddling moment.

Shiro chuckled. "Me too, babe. G'night."

Ichigo mumbled a goodnight before he passed out with a grin, thinking that, maybe, his muse would be coming back sooner or later...

**XXXX**

**Shiro, come by my place tonight, I'm looking for my muse as well. *winks***

**Thanks for reading,**

**Queen.**


End file.
